This Is The Choice
by CSIVixen
Summary: Christine makes her choice. EC
1. So It Ends, So It Begins

**Title: **_This is the Choice_

**Rating: **_T_

**Summary: **_Christine makes her choice. EC, ALW with Leroux hints._

**A/N: **_A fic inspired by my sister and I crying over the ending one night and wishing Erik could have his happily ever after. Started out as a one shot...decided to add more. Enjoy :)_

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing to do with The Phantom of the Opera except the 2004 DVD, the 1987 soundtrack, and a rather unhealthy fixation on Gerard Butler/Erik. I am in no way profiting in this beyond the good feeling I get from giving Erik a happy ending. That said, on with the fic!_

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**So It Ends...So It Begins...**

For what seemed to be the millionth time that day, she moved as if in a trance, knowing what she had to do, but wishing it could be done another way. She ran to him.

"Raoul!" She untied him, closing her eyes in sadness as he clung to her. After a moment, she pulled away slowly.

"Come, Christine, he's gone, let's go-"

"I can't."

He stared at her, unable to speak for a moment. "What do you mean, you can't? We are to be married, Christine! I came to save you, I'm not going to let you stay here because you pity that monster!"

"You came to save your Little Lotte, Raoul, the little girl whose scarf you rescued from the sea." She looked at him, sadness and pain in her eyes. "And if he is a monster, it is the world itself that made him so through cruelty, and it can perhaps be undone. It is something I should have realised long ago. I stay not out of pity, Raoul."

"You are _not_ staying, Christine! Do you have any idea how hard I tried to find you? I will not have gone through this only to let you leave me! I love you, Christine, and you love me, or was that a lie?"

"Not a lie, Raoul," she whispered, shaking her head. "It was never a lie. I do love you... but not the way you love me. You must understand that everything that has happened over the past months... it confused me more than perhaps anything that has happened since Father died."

"So that's it, then? You're just going to stay? What kind of life could you have with him, Christine? I know you've always wanted a family. What then, would you do, if your child inherited his face?"

"Love it, Raoul, and in that it would never have to face what my Angel did! That is what you fail to see, that human beings made him the way he is! The same as you would be in his position!" She was almost shouting now, angry to a point that Raoul had never seen.

"And still, he is your Angel?" He sighed, reaching out to caress her face, then turned away. "Go, Christine. I can see you will stay whether I wish it or not."

"I'm sorry, Raoul..." Her whisper reached his ears along with the sound of the water moving as she made her way back to her Angel... her Phantom.

"_Masquerade... paper faces on parade... Masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you..." _He paused in his singing as Christine drew near. "Christine... I love you..." His voice was soft and quiet in comparison to the anger it had held before. Tears in her eyes, Christine drew closer to him and knelt next to him, neither moving for a moment.

"You should go. Your Vicomte will be waiting," he said abruptly.

"No."

He stared at her. "No, you should not go, or no, your fiancé is not waiting?"

"No, I will not leave you again, and he is not my fiancé." She held out her hand, the ring he had given her still on it. "'The point of no return', Angel. My choice is made."

"And this is not a trick? Some sick new torture of the Vicomte's? If you think to cause me more pain, Christine, I beg of you to leave now!"

"I will not leave, now or ever. These past few months... I am so sorry, Angel, for everything I have done to you." The tears in her eyes finally succeeded in their attempts to fall.

"Erik."

"What?" Christine was confused.

"I am no angel; I am but a man, and a broken one at that. I am Erik." He reached out hesitantly to brush away her tears. "And it is partly my fault, beautiful, for it is I who made you believe that I was your Angel. Lies make a habit of catching up with those who tell them."

Suddenly, they both became aware of the sounds of shouting, of water splashing due to people running through it.

"Come, we must leave before they find me," Erik decided. Looking around, he picked up only his music box and one of his masks, slipping it on carefully.

"Oh, Erik, this is all my fault!" Christine cried softly. With a small smile, he turned to her, brushing a hand over her cheek.

"Things happen for a reason, Christine. And now, you are here with me... I have a reason to live again, mon ange." Turning, he grasped her hand and led her toward a curtain hanging on the wall. Drawing it back, he unveiled a mirror. "Stand back," he warned, letting go of her hand and taking instead a candlestick from beside him. He smashed the mirror, revealing a passage behind it, and took her hand again. He looked in her eyes, searching them. "You are sure about this, chérie? If you choose to leave now, I will not blame you."

"No, Erik. I said that I will not leave you, and I meant it."

"Then come." He pulled her gently into the passage, moving the curtain back into place. There was a lit torch in a bracket on the wall, which he took after putting the music box under his arm. Flicking a switch, a panel of wood slid across, closing the entrance. "They will see the after-effects of the Phantom's rage," he explained. "On the outside, it looks like the backing of a mirror. And now, Christine, will you allow the Phantom to have his fun?"

"Alright..." she said cautiously.

"Nothing dangerous, chérie. Only making sure that they will not harm my possessions... And that they know that they now have nothing to fear from their Ghost." After a few minutes of walking, Christine understood. They were in a small room overlooking Erik's home. Releasing her hand, he stepped to a small hole in the wall.

"Bravo, monsieurs, for you have found the domain of the Opera ghost!" Everyone looked up as Erik's voice, magnified menacingly, echoed throughout the cavern. A good half of the group began to run away. "Ah, but you thought him defeated, did you not? Think again, monsieurs, the Opera ghost reigns still in his kingdom!"

Shouts rang out. A few of the men had drawn guns and were looking around wildly.

"Fear not, good monsieurs, for the Ghost has ended his reign of terror. You will have no more trouble from me!" With that, he turned away, back to Christine.

"Happy, Christine?"

"Very."

**A/N: **_I actually like this. Again, reviews are appreciated :)_

**EDITED: **_Alrighty, maybe not the end. I've had a couple people say they want to see more, and to be honest I've had an idea plaguing me, so... more on the way. :)_


	2. The Business of Erik

**Title: **_This is the Choice_

**Rating: **_T_

**Summary: **_Christine makes her choice. EC, ALW with Leroux hints._

**A/N: **_Well, second chapter cause this thing wouldn't leave me alone. sigh Oh well, I'm not complaining. Enjoy._

**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing to do with The Phantom of the Opera except the 2004 DVD, the 1987 soundtrack, and a rather unhealthy obsession with Gerard Butler. I am in no way profiting in this beyond the good feeling I get from giving Erik a happy ending. That said, on with the fic!_

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**The Business of Erik**

Two months later, Raoul de Chagny was getting tired of waiting. After his return above ground- without Christine- he had become sick, and _now_ he had heard that Christine had been sighted.

His brother had refused to let him go look for her.

_Flashback_

"You forget, brother, that you are at the moment incapable of such activities! Not only that, but think of the disgrace to the de Chagny name! The whore of the Opera, that woman has been called, running off to her precious ghost. You will have nothing to do with her, Raoul Vincent de Chagny, nor anything to do with that damned place again!"

"Phillippe! I _need_ to see her! Let me go find her-"

"So you can have another run-in with that freak? For the last time, Raoul, _no_, you will not go gallivanting off looking for a girl who decided on a monster! You will stay _in that bed_ until the doctor pronounces that you are capable of getting up, then you will _stay here at the estate_ until society's demands dictate otherwise!"

_End flashback_

Sometimes Phillippe just had the worst ideas. Raoul knew that he was healthy enough to go look for Christine and convince her to come with him; he also knew that Doctor Ryan's weakness was money and that Phillippe had bribed him. He wasn't getting out of this bed anytime soon. Unless...

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The man sitting beside him now was someone he had seen around the Opera. A member of high society, as well, or so it would appear; Phillippe had had no problem letting him through the door to see his brother.

"Monsieur, I have heard rumours that you know the man behind the Opera ghost."

His companion shrugged. "Rumours are not always true, sir."

"Are they, in this case?"

"I know of him, monsieur le Vicomte, and I would advise you not to meddle in the business of Erik. If you have no other purpose for me than to get to him, and through him the lady Christine, I will take my leave." The dark-skinned man stood to leave.

"Wait! I must get to Christine, monsieur, take pity on me!" Raoul called to him desperately. The dark eyes stared darkly at him from behind a carefully guarded exterior.

"Pity, sir? Perhaps you must remember who you are dealing with. Monsieur Erik has seen horrors that you cannot begin to imagine; the lady Christine chose him, and rightly so, it seems, and I suggest you resign yourself to that decision and find yourself a woman more open to _society_." The word was dripping with malice, and it hit Raoul like a shot. This man was quite willing to protect the monster he called 'Erik'. _Is that what Christine is calling him now?_ he wondered. Getting lost in his thoughts again, he didn't even notice as Nadir Khan shook his head and took his leave.

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_Two days later..._

"My friend, I suggest you leave Paris immediatly." The words hit Erik like a tonne of bricks.

"Leave Paris?" He eyed Nadir carefully. "What on Earth are you talking about, man? Disappear for two days and return to tell me this?"

"The Vicomte has heard tell of Christine. Only Wednesday he had me up at his bloody mansion, asking about you."

"That infernal nuisance!" Erik roared, standing quickly and pacing around the sitting room in an attempt to calm himself. Nadir had offered his services, letting Erik and Christine stay in his home until the uproar had died down enough to permit them to leave.

"Erik? Is everything alright?"

Nadir looked on in amusement as Erik's attitude changed immediatly at the sound of his fiancée's voice. His whole stance eased, and he paused long enough to wrap his arms around Christine.

"I'm sorry, chéri, but Nadir has just given me some news that I was not too happy about..."

"I gathered that much," Christine replied with a smile, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his eyes. Nadir coughed and began to explain.

"Monsieur le Vicomte-" he was cut off as Erik snorted. Christine gave him a dispproving look and whispered something in his ear. "_As I was saying. _Monsieur le Vicomte called me to his home and proceeded to ask me several questions of a most ridiculous nature. Practically accusing me of being in league with the Opera ghost, can you imagine!" The Persian finished this with a wink,making Christine laugh and Erik glower.

"Get on with it, daroga, I do not wish to be here all night," he said, voice low and threatening.

"Calm down, Erik," Christine said, pushing him lightly into a chair before settling herself gently in his lap. "Let him tell his story." Grumbling a little, all he did in reaction was pull her closer. Nadir had to suppress a smile at the two; who, back in Persia, would have ever imagined that Erik could have been tamed at all, much less by a woman half his size?

"As I was saying. The Vicomte seemed not in his right mind. His brother had confined him to his bed, with good reason, he was raving like a lunatic as I left." _Let's leave out the fact that he was raving about Christine... _he thought to himself. "Apparantly he has not been well. I actually spoke with Phillippe who complained about 'that bloody Opera' and what 'prolonged exposure to those lunatics' had done to his brother. Quite wellspoken man."

Christine frowned. "That sounds like the Phillippe I knew as a child. He's a good twelve years older than Raoul and never had a taste for music or the arts, he used to yell at us if we practised the exercises Father gave us where he could hear."

"Lunacy must run in the family, then."

"_Erik_!"

"Sorry, darling," Erik said with a grin.

"I'm sure, my friend," Nadir said with a laugh. "Well, it all boils down to the fact that the Vicomte will want you back, Christine. He was talking about going to find you. You and Erik were planning on leaving Paris without a doubt?"

She nodded in reply. "Yes, to somewhere else _we_ can perform." Nadir didn't miss the stressed 'we'. "Erik is quite adamant about my performing, so we made a deal that he must try to get some of his work performed as well, the obvious exception being Don Juan."

"Yes. Well, decide where you wish to go...I take it I will be going with you, my friend? It seems you cannot go for long without getting into trouble and I would really rather not have to commute. every time you need help."

"If you wish," Erik agreed grudgingly; in truth, he was glad that the Persian was coming. Annoying as the man was, he was an asset.

"Now, off to bed, children, we will finish this discussion in the morning," Nadir said as he rose. "And Erik- no midnight snacks, I heard you the night before I left!"

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_He needed to save her. Everywhere he turned, she was there, begging him to save her, save her from that monster. Everywhere he turned, she was just out of reach, with that beast right behind her, beside her, holding her or entrancing her, or touching her like he had that night on the stage._

_"Let her go!" He screamed at this man, this Phantom. "Give her back to me, she's mine, she's always been mine!"_

Standing outside his younger brother's door, Phillippe sighed. Raoul's fever had taken a turn for the worse; Doctor Ryan had had to sedate him earlier, but obviously that was wearing off. Raoul had taken to yelling for Christine in his sleep, or rather yelling for the Phantom to let her go. His waking hours weren't much better. He would torment the staff asking to be let up, and whenever Phillippe himself was there, he would yell and throw things. This Christine was more trouble than she was worth, Phillippe decided, and he wished fervently at that moment that his brother had never met the girl.

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**A/N: **_Good? Bad? Tolerable? The little purple button that says 'Go' is calling your name. --hint hint-- _


	3. Decisions Are Made and Plans Are Laid

**Title: **_This is the Choice_

**Rating: **_T_

**Summary: **_Christine makes her choice. EC, ALW with Leroux hints._

**A/N: **_A fic inspired by my sister and I crying over the ending one night and wishing Erik could have his happily ever after. Started out as a one shot...decided to add more. Enjoy :)_

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing to do with The Phantom of the Opera except the 2004 DVD, the 1987 soundtrack, and a rather unhealthy fixation on Gerard Butler/Erik. I am in no way profiting in this beyond the good feeling I get from giving Erik a happy ending. That said, on with the fic!_

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**Decisions Are Made and Plans Are Laid**

Decisions were made, plans were laid, and Nadir's house was in a constant flurry of movement over the next few weeks. After much deliberation, Nadir and Erik had finally come to a decision. Both Erik and Christine had wanted to stay in France, but both knew that it wouldn't be a good idea with the de Chagny family in as much power as they were. A French city, therefore, was the obvious choice, and Nadir, the well-travelled man that he was, immediatly suggested the Canadian city of Montréal. To Erik and Christine, it seemed perfect: their native language, nobody would know them, the Opera ghost would be seem only as a myth, and it was far from France.

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"_Must_ you do that! You insufferable idiot, I have no idea why I keep you around!" Christine looked up from her packing just in time to see her fiancé storm into the bedroom.

"Must be because of my brilliant wit, wonderful humor, perfect good looks, oh, as well as the fact that I'm the only person who can stand to be around you for more than five minutes at a time!" Nadir drifted cheerfully through the house after Erik, who had flung himself down into a chair opposite Christine.

"Hardly the only person, Monsieur Khan, unless you find me invisible," Christine pointed out, her back to the two of them.

"Ah, yes, Mademoiselle Daaé, I had forgotten about you!" She couldn't see either of them, but she knew that he was grinning and Erik, ready to strangle him.

"There, done," she exclaimed as she folded and placed the last skirt into the case and closed it with a satisfying _click_. "That's most of the packing, isn't it?"

"Everything that we will be bringing, my dear."

That was part of the plan: travel as light as possible, bringing only what they needed. Erik and Nadir had returned to the house under the lake, and brought back with them most of Erik's possessions, especially his music. That was another part of the allure to Montréal: The Opéra Royale de Montréal. Nadir had assured them both that it was a quality establishment, quite worthy of their talents. Hearing that had changed Erik's mood considerably, and he spent most of his time- when not arguing with Nadir or helping Christine get everything ready- composing more music.

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_Those brown eyes haunted him. Those beautiful brown eyes, that had looked at him in love, and betrayed him, becoming stained with lust as she danced with the monster that touched her with his filthy hands. Eyes that had begged him to save her, and betrayed him again as she kissed the beast, and returned to him only to leave again. He had heard her as he left, telling her **angel** that she would never leave him._

"You're mine," came the harsh whisper in the night. Speeding away from the de Chagny mansion came a shadow on a black horse, wild laughter whipping away in the wind...

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Nadir smiled over the cover of his book at the young couple across from him. They were on the train now, from Halifax to Montréal, and Christine had fallen asleep immediatly with Erik in quick succession. The boat trip across had been uneventful; pleasant, even, except for a small case of seasickness on Christine's part. It was mid-October now, and Nadir was anxious to get to their new home. He had had a feeling that something was going to happen; these feelings of his were rarely wrong, unfortunately.

The train pulled into the Truro station to pick up and drop off passengers, and Nadir put his book down with a sigh. Might as well sleep as the chance came.

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When her eyes opened again, the first thing Christine noticed was that the train had slowed down. Wondering where they were, she sat up straighter, smiling as Erik awoke with a start at feeling his pillow move.

"Go back to sleep if you want, I only want to find out where we are," Christine explained.

"I'll go with you."

She smiled, knowing she wouldn't be talking him out of it any time soon. Neither got out the door, however, as the whistle blew and the conductor's voice was heard throughout the train:

"All passengers for Montréal! Tous passagers pour Montréal!"

Nadir woke and blinked blearily at them. "Lady and gentleman, I do believe this is our station." Not bothering to hide a huge yawn, he got up, gallantly holding the door open as Christine passed through. "To our new home!"

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"A tall man with a mask, dark hair, green eyes; thin but obviously strong."

"An' the lady?"

"A little shorter than I stand now, with long, curly brown hair and brown eyes. There was also another man with them, perhaps, a little taller than I with dark skin and eyes."

"Yeah, we seen the likes o' two men an' a woman like that, mes'r, that be Mes'r Khan, 'is friend, and the friend's fiancée," the dockhand slurred slightly in Raoul's direction. "Right beau'ful she was too, on'y the tall one wouldn' let us near 'er." Trying not to let his rage and his obvious distaste of the man show, Raoul asked patiently,

"Could you tell me where they were headed, please?"

"O'er t' Canada, them were goin'. Right funny place to be takin' a lady, mes'r, or so said m' friend-"

"Thank you for your time, sir, it is much appreciated," Raoul cut in, not wishing to be there for the rest of the day.

"G'day, mes'r," the dockhand's voice followed him as he left.

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**A/N: **_Blah, short chapter...just two pages. I wanted them out of France before the action starts, though. And, action starting tomorrow, guaranteed! Will post chapter four tomorrow._

_Good? Bad? Tolerable? Let me know in a review :)_


	4. Decisions, Decisons

**Title: **_This is the Choice_

**Rating: **_T_

**Summary: **_Christine makes her choice. EC, ALW with Leroux hints._

**A/N: **_First off, thanks to all my reviewers! I've had little to no time over the past few days so I think I've only responded to one or two reviews, but I'm grateful for every one! Even the death threats for Raoul ;)This chapter is pretty much Erik/Christine centered. And before I hear more death threats for Raoul, I'm going to ask a question: Something happens to Raoul before he gets on the boat, while he's on the boat, or when he gets over to Canada? I'm gonna be taking a vote. And _

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing to do with The Phantom of the Opera except the 2004 DVD, the 1987 soundtrack, and a rather unhealthy fixation on Gerard Butler/Erik. I am in no way profiting in this beyond the good feeling I get from giving Erik a happy ending. That said, on with the fic!_

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"It's getting late, darling, would you rather unpack tomorrow? I know you should probably get some sleep." Erik almost laughed out loud at the look on his Christine's face at that suggestion.

"Erik. It is five o'clock. There is no way I'm going to bed now and letting you and Nadir mess with the unpacking, I know you won't wait," she pointed out. Nadir snorted; Christine was right, she would never be able to go to sleep and leave the two men to organise. _It must be a woman thing, _he mused as he watched the two bicker goodnaturedly about where things would go. He hated to ruin that(_nice try,_ said the voice in his head), but he knew he'd have to tell them about the feeling he'd had on the train. His premonitions were rare, but when he had them, they were to be heeded. He knew there would be a need to keep the couple hidden; the Vicomte, however much Erik adamantly refused to see it, was a problem that could quite possibly become worse.

"Children, behave. There is a matter I feel I must bring up, however much it pains me to do so." Smiling in the face of Erik's glare and Christine's elegantly arched eyebrows, he cleared his throat and began. "Erik, you remember, in Persia, that I used to get those premonitions once in a while?" He paused, waiting for Erik's nod. "Well..." another pause, as he tried to think how to say it in a way that wouldn't upset Christine.

"You had one." _Or, Erik will say it for me._ For it had been Erik who spoke the three words unemotionally.

"That would be a yes."

Christine looked from one man to the other, and back. "Premonition? A premonition of what?"

"They're hard to explain. They run in my family, apparantly," Nadir explained. "They're generally a sort of feeling...as I said, hard to explain. But they can be for good, or for bad, or any range of event. I only get them once in a while, but they've increased over the last little while. How do you think I was awake, waiting, the night you came for me? Erik knows of my sleeping habits."

"Early to bed, early to rise, yes, I did find that night strange," Erik admitted. "But this premonition, Daroga, was it something to be worried about?"

"It was not a good feeling, my friend. Therefore I must suggest that the two of you take precautions to conceal who you are."

"We have already decided on Leroux as a last name, as I never had one," Erik mused. "I suppose you mean that we must use different names?"

Suddenly, Christine, who had been silent throughout most of this exchange, suddenly broke in. "You think it could be Raoul, don't you? That's why you want to change names, because he might be trying to find us."

Nadir hesitated; he did not want to tarnish Christine's image of Raoul, no matter what Erik's opinion was. Raoul had been her childhood friend, and her memories of him should remain mostly as such.

"It is possible," he admitted, sending an apologetic glance at Erik, who seemed to be conciously forcing his hands to stay at his sides. "It may not happen right now; it may not happen for days, weeks, even years. But I assure you that it will happen, and that precautions must be taken." With a sigh, he looked Christine in the eye. "Mademoiselle...Christine...I know that you still see Raoul as the sweet little boy from your childhood, the dear friend you were reunited with who tried to save you from inevitability. But he has changed. I have seen him, both at the Opera and after. He is not the boy you knew, Christine, he's gone mad, if you were to listen to Phillippe talk."

She bit her lip and nodded. "I can understand that," she agreed with a heavy sigh. "He seemed changed even during our time at the Opera, though at the time I thought it was merely that he was older."

"He will not rest until he gets you back, Christine, or until Erik rests in a grave, whichever comes first. That is why we must hide. I know a man here who will marry the two of you, and I think you should as soon as possible."

"Hence the changing of our names. I will stay as Erik, as he never knew my name. Is there one you would like to use for yourself, ma chère?"

Christine thought for a moment. "Maria. It was my mother's name."

Nadir nodded. "Then it is decided. Tomorrow, we will go see my friend, and you shall become Erik and Maria Leroux."

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That night, after Christine and Nadir had both finally admitted defeat and retired to bed, Erik was still awake. Sitting outside their new home, in a new country, surrounded by unfamiliar sights and sounds, it surprised him that he'd never felt more at peace. Yes, he'd had to leave everything he knew behind; he was a wanted man in France; but here, nobody knew of the famed Opera Ghost, he had his Christine by his side...

Ah, Christine; his Angel. Every feeling he'd had for her over the past few months could still be felt deep within his heart, as if every little change had imprinted itself so deeply into his flesh that it would never disappear. There had been times when he'd been so angry at the world, he had wanted to give up, but he always held on to the hope that she would, in the end, choose him. He remembered that last night at the Opera house, that turning point for everything he had ever known. He, who had never known the touch of a woman, had gotten up there on that stage and bared his heart to her; the opera, in essence, had been written for that very purpose. He had lost it when she tore his last refuge from him, every shred of pain and hurt in his life coming back to haunt him as he dragged her back down to his world.

A broken man he had been, that night, broken to the point of insanity...and it had all come to a head with that foolish Vicomte rushing down to save Christine. He had seen the fear in both their eyes, had seen something in Christine's that he did not recognise, and yet thought he should, and the idea of that scared him enough to tell her, tell both of them to leave. How surprised he had been when she returned to him! He had begged her, telling her to leave if it was merely another trick; but she had stayed, and he had brought them out to Nadir, and now, they were in Canada, ready to start a new life.

_Amazing_, he thought to himself, _that everything I have ever wanted has been found in one person..._

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**A/N: **_Yes, short, I know! I'm trying to get everything started and the ball is pretty much rolling. As I mentioned in the above author's note, what would you prefer(whichever way, something will happen to Raoul:P): Before he gets on a boat, while he's on the boat, or in a port in North America?_

_As always, reviews are much appreciated!_


	5. In Sickness And In Health

**Title: **_This is the Choice_

**Rating: **_T_

**Summary: **_Christine makes her choice. EC, ALW with Leroux hints._

**A/N: **_Thanks again to everyone who reviewed! Makes my day. Hope you all enjoy this chapter!_

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing to do with The Phantom of the Opera except the 2004 DVD, the 1987 soundtrack, and a rather unhealthy fixation on Gerard Butler/Erik. I am in no way profiting in this beyond the good feeling I get from giving Erik a happy ending. That said, on with the fic!_

_--------_

Standing on the deck of a ship a few days later, not one tiny cloud of doubt overshadowed Raoul's brilliant plan to rescue Christine. He knew that her _Angel_ had used her, had manipulated her, had threatened her, all to make her his, and Raoul would be the one to save her! He was going to Canada, now, and though it was a big place, he would find her, find her and bring her back to France with him. She would be his yet.

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The next day, he wasn't so sure. While he had had plans to be in the Navy in his youth- or rather, while Philippe had had plans for him to be in the Navy in his youth- at the moment, he was seasick. Desperately so, in fact. He would have regretted setting foot on the ship if it weren't for Christine's awful plight. As it was, he held on to anything he could when he had to walk, but stayed in his room with his eyes and mouth squeezed tightly shut for the most part. He only left when necessary, such as to get food.

It was on one of these occasional forays for sustenance that he happened to bump into one of the other passengers on his way. Immediatly the man turned back to Raoul, eyes flashing.

"Watch where you're going, pretty boy!" It was all Raoul could do just to stare back at him and move his mouth open and closed, without a sound. Suddenly, he felt the need to vomit, and ran toward the side of the boat.

"Don't run from me!" Next thing he knew, Raoul found himself being hoisted up from where he had been hunched over the railing and spun around. The man leaned in closer. "You gonna apologise to me, pretty boy?" As Raoul didn't answer, he tightened his hold on Raoul's shirt. "Over you go then!" With that, he pushed the much lighter Vicomte hard enough to send him crashing into the railing.

What he wasn't counting on was for Raoul's balance to be so off that he fell overboard...

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The next things Raoul saw were the concerned faces of the ship's captain and another man leaning over him.

"Monsieur! You are awake! I must sincerely apologise for the behaviour of M. Lacroix, he has been arrested for his conduct towards you."

"Where am I?"

"We are in the office of Doctor Carey, Monsieur, in Halifax. He has been taking care of you since we landed, you have been asleep since the incident."

"I suggest strongly that you stay in bed, Monsieur, you have a very high fever, and a slight case of hypothermia," the doctor broke in. Raoul nodded in answer, already planning a way to get out.

"Of course." He feigned a yawn."If you do not mind, gentlemen, I am feeling rather tired." Both men nodded and left Raoul alone to his plotting.

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"You wanted to see me, Philippe?"

The Comte de Chagny eyed his companion from across the desk.

"Of course I wished to see you. We have not met for a long time, have we, James?"

"No. But I suspect that this is not the reason you asked me to come here. Raoul is not here." It was a statement, not a question. James Rémy knew what had happened at the Opera house. He knew about Raoul's mental situation. He knew that Raoul would have gone chasing after the Opera wench.

"True. My brother has decided to run after Miss Daaé."

"You need me to find him for you."

The Comte inclined his head. "As usual, a step ahead of me. Yes, I wish for you to find my brother, and bring him back, no matter what. You will be rewarded handsomely for this, my friend."

"So be it. I will look for him." He turned to go.

"One more thing, James."

"Yes?" He turned back to Philippe.

"You will keep this a secret. Raoul has caused the family name enough pain as it is. Nobody knows that he has run off, and nobody needs to know."

"As you wish, Philippe," James replied. Bowing slightly, he turned and swept out of the room, his cloak swirling behind him. As he exited the mansion, he noticed with pleasure that most of the servants whose paths he crossed ran and hid from him. _Nothing like scaring the servants,_ he thought to himself.

--------

"Aye, I seen the likes of a man like 'im th'other day, mess'r." James, the good actor that he was, kept the condescending smile plastered on his face as he spoke with the drunk dockhand. "In fact, 'e came t' ask me 'bout Mess'r Khan and 'is friends, who came by a few days b'fore tha'."

_Nothing like being able to speak properly,_ thought James. Aloud, he said, "I would be much obliged if you would tell me where he was headed."

"Well, 'e seemed right int'rested in Mess'r Khan and 'is companions. Headed o'er to Canada, I'm thinkin', and the main port o'er there is 'Alifax. Tha' might be where your man's goin', Mess'r."

"Thank you."

James had spent the greater part of the past few days asking around for news of Raoul or Christine. He had now seen several people who had seen both, and had been told each time that Christine and the men she was with had been talking about Montréal, while Raoul only asked about Christine and headed off after her. The boy was determined. Foolish, yes, but determined: he had to give him that.

Now to send word to Philippe, and off to Canada to find the boy.

--------

Even with everything he'd been through in the past year- Christine seeing him, being on stage, Christine coming back to him, appearing at the Bal Masque to demand his Don Juan be performed- nothing could compare to the nervousness Erik was feeling as Nadir brought him toward the small chapel. Christine was already there; Erik had insisted that it be as close to a traditional wedding as possible, knowing that that was what she had always wanted.

So there he was, practically being dragged into the chapel by Nadir. He had not been allowed to see Christine since yesterday morning, when she had left to get a dress with one of the women from the Opéra Royale that Nadir had made friends with. That alone was wearing on his nerves; he hated not being able to see her. Add that to the fact that he _knew_ what was supposed to come that night, and he was barely able to hear what Nadir was telling him. The thoughts running through his head were of the variety he'd come to be accustomed to. No woman could ever want him; Christine might have chosen him, but that didn't mean she would honestly want anything to do with him...

"Erik! Listen to me, man, or this will never be done!" Nadir's exasperated voice broke through Erik's thoughts as the two of them sat at the front of the church, waiting for the priest.

"Nadir, what am I doing?" Erik asked helplessly.

"Marrying Christine."

"I know _that_. I mean, what am I doing? _Me, _Nadir. Getting _married_. What the hell am I doing?"

Nadir recognised the panic in Erik's voice, and for once, he thought he knew exactly what his friend was thinking.

"Erik. First of all, she chose you. She knew exactly what she was getting into when she chose you. And, while I have only known her a little while, I can say with certainty that she would not have chosen you if her heart lay with the Vicomte. She is not stupid, nor would she play a game like that."

"But..." Erik gestured helplessly at his face. "Do not tell me you do not know what is expected on a wedding night, Nadir." It was the first time Erik had ever mentioned anything that personal to him before, and the Persian was quite taken aback. "I have no idea what I am doing. I have never touched a woman before, except for her, in Don Juan, and that was pure acting, nothing like this. I repulse her, Nadir. I saw it in her eyes when she first saw me, she was terrified."

"If that is the time when you knocked her to the ground, I would say that it was not your face she was terrified of. You are no kitten when something gets you angry, and you are always angry when you are hurt. _Do not tell me_," he said, mocking Erik's earlier words, "that you have not seen it in her eyes, nor heard it when she speaks of you. She cares for you, my friend. You would do well to remember it. "

"Monsieur Khan. I have not seen you in these parts for some time." Both men turned to see Father Thomas, the priest who was to perform Erik and Christine's wedding ceremony, walking smoothly toward them. Nadir bowed.

"Unfortunately I have not had a lot of time, Father, but I aim to stay for a longer time for the present."

"Because of your friends, Monsieur Leroux and his bride to be, yes?" Erik felt slightly unnerved by the priest's calm gaze. He gave off the impression that nothing could ever could ever upset him.

"That is correct. I hope to be seeing you more often, Father, now that I will be in the area permanently."

"That would be wonderful," Father Thomas replied, bowing to Nadir. "At the present time, however, I wish to speak to Monsieur Leroux privately before the ceremony starts."

Erik, in his current state, barely kept his mouth from dropping open briefly, saying instead, "Of course," and following Father Thomas out into a smaller room.

"You are not a religious man." Father Thomas' blunt statement surprised Erik.

"Not particularly, no."

"Yet you are in a church."

"It is mostly for Christine. I mean no offense, Father, but God has never been a large part of my life."

"To each his own." Father Thomas looked right into Erik's eyes, something that people generally did not do. "I know that you have not had an easy life, Monsieur. It can only get better, with Christine in your life."

Silence. Father Thomas sat down in one of the chairs against the wall.

"I know you must be feeling apprehensive about the whole affair."

"Exactly how much about me has Nadir told you, Father?" Erik didn't really want to know, but at the same time, it was driving him crazy.

"That you have had a hard life; that God has not been a sanctuary for you as He should be. That Christine is your Angel, and your saviour. I said you were not a religious man, monsieur; that may be true. It may surprise you to know that I had little faith myself, not even ten years ago. Let me assure you, monsieur, that peace is the greatest gift that a man can earn. I am certain that you will find it with Christine, with the Earth, and hardest of all, yourself."

By now, Erik was truly surprised. Never before had anyone ever spoken to him like this before, like they were truly unafraid; not Nadir, not even Christine...though that had changed for the better in the past two months. He did not have a chance to answer however, because Father Thomas stood and made his way to the door.

"The ceremony will be starting soon. I am sure that Nadir is quite ready to kill me if I do not let him have his last words with you."

And with that he was gone. Erik stood, shaking his head in disbelief, now with even more thoughts crowding his head as he followed the priest. As the man had said, Nadir was practically twitching with last minute instructions.

"You just follow what Thomas tells you, Erik."

"Yes, Nadir."

"And don't be nervous. Remember what I told you earlier."

"_Yes_, Nadir." Erik was beginning to get annoyed.

"I'm willing to bet that Thomas talked to you as well. He knows what he's talking about-"

"**_Yes_**, Nadir, now be _quiet_ before you get me angry!"

Nadir shut his mouth.

"_Thank_ you."

For both Erik and Christine, most of the service was a blur. Father Thomas talked to everyone present- them, Nadir, a woman Nadir had met at the Opéra Royale, and the men who worked in the church with Father Thomas. The only part that really stood out in the blur of words, sounds and faces were their vows.

"Erik, repeat after me," Father Thomas instructed in his calm, level voice, completely the opposite of what Erik was feeling. "'I Erik, take you Christine, to be my wedded wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish 'till death do us part. And hereto I pledge you my faithfulness.'"

Erik repeated the vow. He could have sworn he heard his voice almost break numerous times as he looked into his beloved's eyes; he felt as though he were baring his soul for her to take.

"Christine. 'I, Christine, take you Erik, to be my wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, 'till death do us part. And hereto I pledge you my faithfulness.'"

Christine repeated her vows, all the while never taking her eyes from Erik's. Father Thomas added a few more words, which neither of them could make out, lost in each other's eyes. The only thing that made Erik concious enough to pay attention was when Father Thomas, at long last, said, "Erik, you may kiss your bride."

Slowly, still almost convinced that Christine would pull away or run from him, he reached up with one hand to cup her cheek. He leaned down slowly, brushing his lips gently against hers, almost pulling away himself in shock as she responded, pushing herself a little closer to him. They broke apart after what seemed both an eternity and a second, and looked again into each other's eyes, once again not noticing as Father Thomas finished the ceremony. Erik broke the gaze briefly to glance at Nadir, who was grinning like a fool. Erik allowed himself a small grin, looking down to see a similar expression on Christine's face. A brief inspection of the room yielded the information that most of the clergy was gone, except one man who was extinguishing candles. Nadir finally came over.

"Well, my friends, you've done it."

--------

**A/N: **_Wow. That was interesting to write. Also took a LOT longer than I thought it would. It's longer than I thought it would end up, as well. I have come to the brilliant conclusion that I write the E/C scenes a lot better than anything to do with Raoul xD wonder why that is. Oh well, there'll be enough time for Raoul later. As always, reviews are good :) And I have the whole story planned out, I'm working on embellishment now...updates _should_ be coming faster, unless school gets in the way. Thanks for reading!_


	6. Let the Dream Descend

**A/N:**_ Here's another chapter! Enjoy, and don't forget to review!_

**Disclaimer:**_ I own nothing to do with The Phantom of the Opera except the 2004 DVD, the 1987 soundtrack, and a rather unhealthy obsession with Gerard Butler. I am in no way profiting in this beyond the good feeling I get from giving Erik a (generally)happy ending. That said, on with the fic!_

**--------**

One year ago, Christine Daaé had been a completely different woman. Sixteen years old, a dancing career in front of her, she would never have imagined what was in store for her. If you had told her that at seventeen, she would have fallen in love, left Paris, and been married to a man she had always known as the Angel of Music, she would have politely excused herself from your presence, thinking all the while that you were insane.

Then it happened.

Now, sitting in the back of a coach, Christine Leroux was quite willing to say that this was the happiest moment of her life. In the short time that she had known Erik for Erik, instead of an Angel, she had seen many sides to him. Anger, frustration, cold and calculating; even brief smatterings of happiness. Through those times, she had always felt his love for her; he would never vent anything on her, in reality, she was sure she calmed him a little. But all those tiny signs of affection were nothing compared to the way she felt now.

She was no longer Christine Daaé. She was Christine Leroux, wife of Erik Leroux. Madame Opera Ghost, as Nadir had playfully said the other night, receiving in return a glare from Erik.

She had seen throughout the service that Erik had been terribly nervous. Nadir, who had walked her down the aisle, had whispered to her that Erik seemed even more insane than usual, a large feat in his opinion. But looking in his eyes for the first time that day, she had seen only hope, love, and an inexplicable fear. Something that Nadir had told her when she first met him surfaced in her mind:

_Flashback_

"Miss Daaé. Enchanté." The man was dark in every sense of the word. Dark skin, dark hair, dark eyes, even his clothes; but he emanated confidence, and the sparkle in his eye betrayed his jubilant personality.

"Christine, stay here with Nadir for a while. I must return and get some of my things. Is there anything you need?" Christine shook her head, and Erik leaned down to hug her before slipping out of the door.

"Well, Miss Daaé, it seems that Erik has left us some time to get to know each other. Would you care for some tea?"

"Call me Christine. Tea would be lovely, if it isn't too much trouble," Christine answered softly, a small smile on her face as she finally looked away from the door Erik had left through.

"No trouble at all. I hope Erik has been good to you, Mademoiselle. He can be very...intense, at times."

Christine laughed. "He is all I have ever wanted, Nadir. He makes me feel as nobody else has."

Nadir turned a searching gaze on her; she felt that if he looked hard enough, he could read her soul.

"He feels for you as he has felt for nobody else, Christine. I have known him since...for a very long time, and I can honestly say that he has never been happier. You must understand, Erik has had very little human contact in his life. If he ever seems cold, distant, it is through sheer terror that he will make a mistake that will cost him your love."

"Never!" Christine responded almost violently.

"Mademoiselle, I can assure you that I believe you. Erik, however, is not used to letting anyone close to him. His survival has depended on being distant from those who would scorn him. If he lost you, he would die of the pain."

_End flashback_

Now, sitting curled up against her husband as the horses thundered their way home, Christine hoped that such a thing would never happen. She loved Erik; now she had to make him believe, and not fear that she would leave...

--------

"Ah! Monsieur Khan! Wonderful to see you again!"

Nadir turned to see the manager of the Opéra Royale, M. Réyes, walking toward him.

"Monsieur Réyes, a pleasure as always."

"What brings you to the Opéra today? Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No, I am merely passing the time. Monsieur Leroux was married today, I thought it unwise to intrude upon him today."

"Ah, of course, your composer friend and his singer fiancée...although I suppose it is wife now."

"That reminds me, Monsieur, I have one of Erik's compositions for you to look over if you wish," Nadir proclaimed, taking said composition from his pocket with a flourish. It was a piece Erik had written for his Don Juan Triumphant, about Christine under the guise of Aminta, but it had not been a part of the final product, the Don Juan as seen by Paris. This piece had been private, everything Erik had felt about Christine, set to music. It had taken a long time and much careful persuasion for Erik to let Nadir bring it to M. Réyes.

"Perfect! Let us bring it to Monsieur Emberg, our orchestra master. He will wish to see it." M. Réyes gestured for Nadir to follow him, and as the two set off, Nadir couldn't help but think that this man seemed far too cheerful for five o'clock in the afternoon.

--------

When the carriage pulled up outside the house, Erik looked down to see Christine asleep against him, angelic as always, dressed in the wedding gown he had designed for her, with a smile on her face. He could not bring himself to wake her. Scooping her up in his arms, he paid the driver and made his way inside, careful not to disturb her. He somehow managed to open the door to their room and set her down gently on the bed.

As of yet, they had not spent the night together; he had always made some excuse, such as music, or that he was working on something around the house. Christine had never protested aloud, but he had seen the look in her eyes; it had almost killed him not to turn to her, but he was still afraid. Stroking her cheek, he stood slowly and started to walk back out the door.

"Erik?" The whisper was so soft that had he not had superb hearing from all those years of haunting the Opéra Populaire, he might not have heard it. Slowly he turned.

"Yes, ma chère?"

"Stay with me." She held out her arms to him, and he finally let himself give in to her. Crossing back over to the bed, he sat down next to her and she immediatly wrapped her arms around him.

He did not know how long they sat there. He was merely glad that she was not running from him; somehow, he still expected it.

Christine, on the other hand, was still thinking back to Nadir's warnings. _You must understand, Erik has had very little human contact in his life. If he ever seems cold, distant, it is through sheer terror that he will make a mistake that will cost him your love._ Would he then try to begin something? Christine did not care what; she had heard the older girls back in Paris bragging about their exploits with stagehands, actors, patrons- she and Meg had often speculated about what it would be like- but she knew, thanks to Nadir, that Erik would likely not even try to kiss her. She sat in silence for a few more minutes, then looked up.

"Erik?"

"Yes?"

"You don't have to wear your mask around me."

Silence. She knew that she had started something. He had made no move to pull away from her, nor to take the mask off, so she reached up and touched his unmasked cheek.

"It doesn't matter."

"It does. You should not have to be subjected to-"

"Erik. _Stop_."

He stopped.

"It doesn't matter. You're you under the mask, with or without it. It is not the mask that I love." There, she had said it. Now it was up to him to believe her. She could tell that there was a battle raging in his mind as he stared at her.

"...Christine..." This time it was his turn to speak so quietly that it was almost illegible. She smiled.

"I'm right here, Erik. I made the mistake of running once. I will not make it again." She reached up as she had the first time, all those months ago, but this time, her eyes locked with his. She was silently asking his permission. He closed his eyes and nodded slowly, allowing her to gently pull the mask off his face. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to let her see the fear in his eyes.

He felt her hands travel gently over the ravaged flesh, the old scars, the old deformity.

"Erik, look at me," she ordered gently. He obeyed, and opened his eyes to her clear brown eyes gazing at him. There was no fear in her eyes, only the love that he had seen since they left the Opéra Populaire. Unable to hold her gaze for long, he pulled her closer, burying his face in her neck, and finally allowing himself to be close to her.

"Darling...my angel..." he whispered against her skin, his lips brushing gently over her neck as he spoke. She giggled.

"That tickles, Angel," she said, grinning though he could not see that.

"I apologise," a murmur this time, repeating the action. He pulled away from her neck and looked directly at her again, leaning his forehead against hers. Lifting a hand to her face, he gently tilted toward her, letting his mouth settle slowly over hers, as if to give her time to pull away, though that was unnecessary. She kissed him back, letting loose the same passion they had both felt in Don Juan Triumphant.

One hand still cupping her cheek, the other slid along her spine as her arms made their way around his neck and waist. An almost inaudible moan worked its way out of Christine's throat, as memories of his hands on her _that night_ ran rampant in her mind. Settling herself closer to him, she shivered as he pulled back, looking into her eyes for approval. He found it. He pulled her against him again, this time kissing her harder and letting both his hands start to work on the back of her dress.

_Let the dream descend..._

--------

If there was one thing Raoul de Chagny hated, it was not getting his own way. It was mostly to do with Philippe spoiling him, though he generally chose to ignore the fact that he was indeed spoiled. Now, sitting in the small hotel room, knowing he was locked in and helpless to rectify the situation, he was getting very annoyed. The doctor and the captain were against him, he knew. In his fevered mind, it was all a conspiracy to let the Phantom continue to terrorise his Christine.

Bored and frustrated, Raoul stood and paced the room, against the doctor's orders. He had been told specifically to stay in bed until the fever passed; Raoul was reminded of Doctor Ryan, back at the Chagny mansion, who had told him the same thing. That doctor had been wrong; surely this one was as well! _I need to find Christine..._ he thought, glancing around the room, looking for anything that would aid him.

The lock of the door clicked as someone entered. Raoul's breath caught in his throat. _Christine!_ Aloud, he said, "Good afternoon, darling! I see the monster has let you loose!"

The maid gave him a strange glance. There had been rumours going around about the mad young Vicomte. Dashing as he was, the good looks were evened out with the madness.

"The monster, sir?" she asked carefully.

"Yes, the monster!" the Vicomte answered. "Your Angel of Music, the Phantom!"

Angels? Phantoms? The man must be quite mad.

"Christine, come, you have not greeted me as you should! We are to be married, darling!" At this, Maria decided, to hell with it! if the handsome, _rich_ Vicomte thought she was his fiancée, she would be his fiancée.

Playing along, she answered, "I am sorry, my dear, but I am frightened."

"Frightened indeed! What has he done to you, sweet? He must be truly horrible if he has succeeded in pulling us apart! But enough, we must fly." Raoul stood from his seat near the window and picked up the bag that the captain had had brought from the ship. "Let us go, darling, we must make our way to France!" He took her hand. "But your ring, darling! Where is your ring?"

Maria thought quickly. "He took it from me."

"The Phantom?"

"Yes, him. He took it from me, he was jealous."

"But you wore it as you left me! He would not have taken it from you!" Raoul began to get angry. He pulled _Christine_ around to face him, only to see green eyes. "Impostor! You are but another trick of the Phantom's, sent to take me farther from Christine!" Pushing her down, he ran out the door. "Catch me if you can, Monsieur le Fantôme!"

--------

Hours later, Raoul had finally made his way to the train station, asking around again about the Phantom, Christine, and Nadir. He finally found a woman who spent her days cleaning on the train, who had seen them.

"Headed to Montréal, sir," she told him politely. She honestly wished that she could have nothing to do with this madman, with his tales of a ghost, a singer, and a foreigner. But this young man was rich, and had offered a reward for information, and she had a sick son to think of.

"Thank you, my good woman!" Raoul exclaimed, glad to have this information. He shoved some currency into her hand that he had had exchanged; he had no real idea of the amount, only that it was substantial. Money, however, was no object when it came to Christine.

_Next stop, Montréal! _ he thought to himself as he headed toward the ticket booth.

--------

_Nine o'clock, _Nadir thought with a yawn as he hailed a carriage. Going home was not a good idea; he knew that they would be talking, if nothing else, and he had no wish to disturb anything they might be doing. He decided to check himself into an inn to stay the night, and go home in the morning.

Once there and in bed, Nadir suddenly had a feeling of overwhelming happiness, followed by dread. _Another premonition,_ he thought with a groan. These really had to stop. He hoped that whatever happened, happened soon, and was over soon.

--------

**A/N: **_Yay, Erik's over his shyness issues -manic grin- And Raoul is over...his...well, never mind, he still has all his issues. And will end up with more, I'm sure, by the time I'm finished with him. Poor guy, subjected to my mind! ;-) Anyway, as always, I'd love to hear from anyone who happens to read this :) Reviews keep me wanting to post! _


	7. You've Done This Before

**Disclaimer: Disclaimer:** _I own nothing to do with The Phantom of the Opera except the 2004 DVD, the 1987 soundtrack, and a rather unhealthy obsession with Gerard Butler. I am in no way profiting in this beyond the good feeling I get from giving Erik a (generally)happy ending. That said, on with the fic!_

The sun broke through a crack in the curtains of Erik and Christine's room, slowly filling the room with light. Erik groaned as he woke slowly to find his eyes filled with light. Muttering to himself, he gave a start as he woke fully to find that his mask was gone, and that Christine was sleeping next to him, a smile gracing her face again. He reached out gently and brushed a lock of hair off her face as she began to stir.

"...Angel..." he whispered softly as her eyes opened and her smile widened.

"My Angel," she replied just as softly. They just laid there and looked at each other for a few moments, before Erik slowly reached over and pulled her over for a kiss. She giggled as they drew apart. "Do you have any idea how often I dreamed of waking up next to you, just like this?"

"Probably as often as I dreamed of the same, darling."

The next few moments between the two were spent trading long, slow kisses, before Erik finally pulled away completely.

"We should get up, chérie. It is gone ten."

By the time the two of them made it out of bed and into the kitchen, it was to find Nadir sitting in his normal chair, reading, and smirking in turns at them and the clock.

"Finally up, eh?"

"Daroga..." Erik said warningly, only to feel Christine's arms slipping around his waist and her stern look.

"Food, Erik," she reminded him.

"And then a trip to the Opera!" Nadir broke in cheerfully. Erik groaned.

"Have I mentioned that I have absolutely no desire to meet with managers?"

"Numerous times, darling," Christine said indifferently as she made her way over to the counters to find something for herself and her husband, as Nadir had already gotten something for himself.

"He really is not so bad, Erik," Nadir admonished the glowering man sitting across the table. "Nothing like the idiots they had passed off as managers at the Populaire. Lefèvre was all right, but André and Firmin... well."

"I have no desire to see any manager in any form, idiot or not. I dislike being with other people, especially when I'm showing my work."

"You'll be brilliant," Christine broke in as she set a mug of Nadir's strong tea in front of Erik. "Your music is amazing, they'll probably give you a job on the spot."

"I'm glad someone's so confident in me." He pulled his wife down into his lap, ignoring her protests that breakfast was going to burn. "We all know how brilliant my _last_ performed work was."

"It _was_ brilliant. Better than what they normally put on. At the point at which it was performed, however, everyone was much too on edge to appreciate it," Christine said firmly, shooting a glare at Nadir who was obviously laughing behind his book. "And what are you laughing at?"

"Absolutely nothing," he replied, finally letting a laugh loose.

"Daroga! I dislike being laughed at!" Erik growled.

"You dislike a lot of things. You'll live."

"Both of you, behave. Nadir, what is so funny?"

"The fact that Erik so obviously pays attention to everything you say. Forgive me, but it's funny to see the Erik I knew being ordered around by a little girl."

"I'm not a little girl! I'm-" She paused. "Seventeen. But that's beside the point!"

"He still listens to everything you say."

"_He_ is sitting right here," Erik pointed out. "And Daroga, stay out of my affairs. I told you once, I'll tell you again, I do not like people who meddle in my business!"

"As I said before, you dislike a lot of things-"

They were interrupted this time by Christine letting out a small squeak of surprise and running over to the stove, where she'd left a pan over the heat. After making sure the contents were all right, she turned to face Erik and stuck out her tongue.

"I _told_ you."

"But it is fine, is it not?"

"Yes. But only because I noticed it."

"Just eat, you two, we have to leave in an hour."

Breakfast was finished in silence, with Erik sending Nadir evil looks every time he started to laugh. After breakfast, Christine and Erik went into the bedroom to get ready, leaving Nadir to glance at the clock every few minutes. After half an hour had elapsed, he decided to go check on them.

What he heard surprised him.

"Erik, you don't have to be scared. You have done this before."

"I don't want to hurt you-"

"You won't, it doesn't hurt at all anymore. I've gotten used to it."

"You've got bruises all over you, darling."

"I've always bruised easily. Hurry up, or Nadir will wonder what has happened to us."

Behind the door, Nadir coughed loudly. "Is everything all right?" he called.

"Everything is fine," Erik answered.

"Yes, only Erik won't tighten my corset enough," Christine added. Nadir had to suppress a laugh. _So **that** is what they were doing!_

"Well, hurry up. Erik, women are strange creatures, those things don't hurt them. Just do as she says, man, we need to leave!

The only answer he received was a grumble from Erik and a laugh from Christine.

* * *

"Ah, Monsieur Leroux! Excellent to see you, sir!"

_Well, he's certainly very exuberant, _Erik thought as the manager of the Opéra Royale came toward their small group.

"And this must be your wife! Excellent, excellent. Well, shall we have Madame Leroux audition first, or would you like to look over the contract, Monsieur? Monsieur Khan has already brought me some of your work, we were all quite impressed."

Erik inclined his head slightly. "If you have already seen that, then I believe my wife would like to audition first, and the contracts will be handled afterwards." He turned to Christine. "Is that all right, Maria?" he asked, careful to make sure he used the name they had agreed upon for public use.

She nodded and smiled at him. "That will be fine."

M. Réyes clasped his hands and smiled. "Perfect. We will go straight to Monsieur Emberg, then. I remember Monsieur Khan mentioned that you warm up with your wife on the piano?"

"That is correct. I have been her teacher for several years, we have developed a system."

"Perfect, perfect, let us go, then!"

Erik sent Nadir a look. This man was interesting, if nothing else.

* * *

_Screams followed him everywhere as he tried to follow them. Always just out of reach, just around a corner, he would catch a glimpse of her. Her long hair swinging as she was pulled along, her pleading eyes._

_Those pleading eyes, that both threaten, and adore._

_He had her, he had her, **his** Christine. _

_Once again, strains of music from Don Juan filled his mind._

_The bridge is crossed so stand and watch it burn... we've past the point of no return..._

_He was holding her, that monster, contaminating her, and she was doing nothing to stop him. She was going back to him. She **kissed** him._

_He would save her, he would get her away from the monster..._

_Sounds followed him again, this time laughter, singing, happy sounds. He ran from them, refusing to think of her happy with the monster..._

* * *

James sighed as he stepped off the boat onto the foggy Halifax pier. Raoul certainly was determined. From what Philippe and the doctor had told him, Raoul did, in fact, have something wrong with his mind. The boy had apparently caught something down in those cellars, and it had caused him to go mad. How someone in his state had gotten this far, he had no idea.

But he had; and now, James had the ever so wonderful task of finding the boy.

* * *

Emberg had never seen anything like it. The Leroux' were quite amazing. He had, in fact, absolutely fallen for the piece which M. Khan brought in. It was musical genius, unadulterated, pure and simple. Madame Leroux, who gave her name as Maria, was supposedly magnificent as well. But the two of them together! M. Emberg, in his many years with the Opéra Royale, had never heard anything like it. The Leroux' and M. Khan had come onto the stage with M. Réyes, and M. Réyes had announced that 'Monsieur Leroux and his wife will be warming up together'. Naturally, M. Emberg had been a tiny bit put out at this, but he soon forgot about it at the prospect of getting his hands on the couple's talent.

"I am afraid that Madame Leroux will have to wait a while before getting a leading part, of course," M. Emberg told the musical couple after the wife's audition, with true regret in his voice. "Once she is better known, however, and that should take little time, with her talent, she will have many parts, many parts!"

Erik turned a little to send his wife a tiny smile. Things were going exactly as planned.

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Another chapter. Muahaha. Raoul is sneaking ever closer... Anyway. Have had a sick day and a storm day consecutively, and prior to that, no Internet due to my father taking my modem away -grumbles- BUT because of that, I managed to get almost everything but the epilogue to this typed out! Go me ;) So I'll be posting every other day, probably. As well, started a new story, or rather, a new collection of stories: **An Angel's Arising and Other Tales**_, _it's just going to be a place for all my short little things that really have no place._

_Thanks to everyone that has reviewed, hearing what people have to say about my work always helps :)_


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